Emma Darcy - In Need Of A Wife

‘You can hardly say your attitude is normal,’ she retorted.

‘Normality is a fantasy. People aspire to it because they’re so frightened of being themselves.’

‘Well, now I’m free to be myself,’ Sasha tossed at him.

‘If you married me, you’d be even more free to be yourself.’

‘Free?’ She cocked a scornful eyebrow at him. ‘Wouldn’t I have to share your bed?’

‘Minimally. Marriage isn’t legal without consummation. Would once in a lifetime be asking too much of you?’

‘Once! What kind of marriage is that?’

His eyes danced over her from head to toe, openly admiring the shining fall of her long black hair, the curves of her figure which were faithfully outlined by her T-shirt and jeans, the shapeliness of her long legs.

‘Perhaps I could manage more if you really wanted me to,’ he suggested, flashing her a smile that had the kick of a mule. His eyes held a definite glint of earthy wickedness as he added, ‘You have lovely skin. Smooth and creamy. Must be like satin to touch.’

Sasha could feel the cream burning into fire-engine red as she remembered wanting to know how it would feel to be touched by him. Her gaze dropped to his hands, lightly resting on his knees, and she had a moment of lustful speculation that was totally unlike her.

Fortunately, Bonnie recalled her to her senses by squirming and crowing her eagerness to be returned to her playmate. Sasha hoisted her daughter up against her shoulder, holding her more securely, defensively.

‘This is getting beyond the pale,’ she said, her eyes flashing contempt for his concept of a convenient marriage. ‘Where do you get such ideas from?’

He shrugged. ‘They popped into my head.’

‘So you ask the first woman you meet, or happen to be with, to be your...’ Words failed her.

He grinned, totally unabashed. ‘There is a certain zest to it, springing into the unknown. It could be a glorious adventure for both of us.’

‘Or a trip to hell and perdition,’ she reminded him with waspish intent, hoping he felt the sting in the tail. ‘Don’t forget that,’ she added for good measure.

‘Doesn’t apply. No love involved.’

‘Which is where I opt out. Thanks for the offer but it has no appeal to me.’

She leaned down to pick up her bag, telling herself she was crazy to have listened to him for so long, crazier still to feel tempted into listening some more. Sex-appeal was a trap. It faded fast once one got down to the nitty-gritty of making a relationship work. Tyler had conclusively proved to her that a relationship without love had no hope of bringing any real or lasting happiness.

‘Can’t I play with the baby any more?’

‘I don’t think the baby’s mother wants to stay, Matt, and we have to respect other people’s wishes.’

It was a gentle answer. Sasha saw an arm reach out and gather the little boy into a comforting closeness with his father, a loving touch that put an ache of yearning in Sasha’s stomach. If Tyler had been like that with Bonnie... But he hadn’t, and any last hope of him ever changing had died the night she saw him shaking their child as though she were nothing but a rag doll.

As she straightened, the bag firmly clutched in her hand, Sasha tried her best to project proud independence in turning away from the disturbing influence of Nathan Parnell’s presence. But her heart caught at the mournful look in his small son’s eyes.

She was well acquainted with the loneliness of being an only child. But Matt did have the love of his father. And Bonnie had her love. The last thing children needed was to be caught in the warfare of a relationship that wasn’t based on love.

Reassured that she had done the right thing in leaving Tyler, and was doing the right thing in leaving Nathan Parnell, Sasha stiffened her spine and bestowed a warm smile on the little boy.

‘Thank you for playing with Bonnie.’

‘Can we play again another time?’ he asked.

‘I’m afraid not.’ She saw the disappointment in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added, then turned quickly and walked away, wondering how different their lives might have become if she could have given another answer.

In her abstraction she did not see the figure striding across the park on an intercepting course.

‘Sasha!’ he called.

She heard the strident anger in the voice. It arrested her mid-step. She turned towards the source, knowing already what she was about to see, knowing she was about to be involved in another confrontation, this one much more serious than the minor skirmish she had just played out with Nathan Parnell.

She knew the owner of the voice.

It belonged to Tyler Cullum.

SASHA watched Tyler approach. She had once thought him sexy, but now she saw him as nothing more than a slick sophisticate, consumed with self-interest. He was more smoothly handsome than Nathan Parnell, conscious of the latest fashions, stylishly lean, and affecting a temperamental moodiness that he considered artistic.

Why she suddenly thought of Nathan Parnell as warm and honest and earthy, she didn’t know. Contrast, she supposed. Nathan Parnell was a bigger man, his strongly boned face marked with expressive character lines, his dark hair an unruly toss of waves that looked finger-combed, if combed at all. There was nothing artificial about him. He was comfortable with who and what he was and not frightened to lay that out to anyone else.

Sasha told herself she had nothing to be frightened of, either. She didn’t have to please or appease Tyler any more. She was free to be herself and go her own way.

But all her fine resolutions didn’t stop her stomach from twisting into a knot of apprehension as Tyler came to a halt in front of her. She stared defiantly into stormy grey eyes, deciding she had a definite preference for vivid blue.

‘You could have told your parents which park you were going to,’ Tyler sniped. ‘This is the third one I’ve had to look through.’

‘I don’t understand what you’re doing here, Tyler,’ she said truthfully. ‘You were glad to see us leave a week ago.’

He made a visible effort to control his irritation. ‘Well, I was wrong, Sasha. Now that I’ve had time to think about it...’

‘I’ve had time to think about it, too. I wasn’t wrong, Tyler. For me, it’s finished.’

‘You’re being unreasonable, Sasha. Just because I’m not as patient as you are with Bonnie...’

Her expressive dark eyes flashed contempt at his hypocritical excuse. It forced Tyler to a concession.

‘All right. I’m sorry for blowing up, but she was driving me nuts.’

‘She won’t any more. If you’ll excuse us...’

Before she could move, Tyler stepped forward and snatched her carrier bag out of her hold. ‘You’re not going anywhere until we’ve talked this out.’

Sasha fought to remain calm, disdaining any attempt to retrieve the bag. ‘Talking won’t make any difference to my decision, Tyler.’

She saw the struggle on his face. He found it difficult to accept that she could actually walk away from him without a backward glance. ‘Listen to me, Sasha,’ he demanded, mollifying the demand with a cajoling tone. ‘I miss you. I even miss the baby. The apartment feels empty without you.’

The glib persuasion didn’t have the substance to reach past other memories. Sasha eyed him with bleak weariness. ‘What you’re missing, Tyler, is a convenience you’ve got used to. Find another woman to look after your needs. The one you tumbled in your studio might oblige.’

It riled him. ‘I told you that was a one-off thing.’

‘You’re free to do whatever you like with whomever you like, Tyler. But not with me and Bonnie.’